


i wish the tide would take me over

by spaghettirobot



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Catharsis, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:41:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23134819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaghettirobot/pseuds/spaghettirobot
Summary: Beau feigns sleep until everyone is really knocked out and then sneaks back into the captain’s quarters for another session of self-flagellation. She’s not sure whether to feel proud of her ability to deceive or devastated because nobody really pays enough attention to care or notice. So she chooses not to feel anything at all.Prompt fill for tiamat-zx over on tumblr.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & Yasha, Jester Lavorre & Beauregard Lionett
Comments: 8
Kudos: 76





	i wish the tide would take me over

Beau doesn’t know why she came up here, she’s supposed to be in the dome with everyone else protecting Fjord but she just - can’t. So instead she’s sitting in the empty captain’s quarters, staring at the splotches of Fjord’s blood stained on the floor. The desk chair is as uncomfortable as she feels matches her current mood, it suits her well.

She stares at the blood and thinks about being fast but never fast enough to save the men she cares about. Fucking, stood right there while Lorenzo ran Molly through the chest and stood there frozen while the same thing happened to Fjord, her captain. What’s the point of having all of this power when it fails her when she needs it the most?

The voice inside her head that sounds spitefully like her father whispers how useless she is when it matters the most, that’s why they replaced her after all. Beau’s let this voice amplify itself and live unchecked for the past few weeks. Suffering in silence has always been more her thing.

She tries to focus on the crash of the waves against the ship, tap into her Cobalt Soul training to clear her mind but it’s not working. Between seeing her parents and shutting that off for the good of the team and trying and failing to not be on the wrong side of the Traveler issue and the Essek issue and now this? One person can only repress so much.

Beau wipes angrily at her cheek and thanks whatever gods are out there nobody is here to see it.

Sometime before dawn she slips back into the dome, exhausted in every meaning of the word.

***

It becomes her ritual.

Beau feigns sleep until everyone is really knocked out and then sneaks back into the captain’s quarters for another session of self-flagellation. She’s not sure whether to feel proud of her ability to deceive or devastated because nobody really pays enough attention to care or notice. So she chooses not to feel anything at all.

After the first night, a bottle of whisky becomes her companions on these adventures. If only to help her fall asleep in the chair because while they don’t notice her sneaking in and out, they do notice every single time she fucks something up because she’s bone tired. Of course she can’t get a break on that but she takes it on the chin as she always does, apologizes, and works to shove her pain further into the shadows.

She has the thought after they narrowly escape the snapping clutches of a dragon turtle - which, what the fuck - that maybe she wouldn’t mind taking one for the team. Maybe she’s one of those people who’ll be appreciated more once she’s gone. Maybe she has to take her lumps while she’s here to earn, what? Some sort of posthumous glory. Even in a fog of self-deprecation Beau knows that’s a thought that demands some serious help. She’s just too tired to want that for herself anymore.

***

Rumblecusp is every bit of the clusterfuck it was built up to be. Beau bites her tongue and retreats to the shoreline as Jester collapses, exhausted and devastated in equal turns as she realizes she is just another follower Artagan wanted to distance himself from.

It’s not her place to comfort Jester, it’s not in her skill set. She knows what she knows. She knows what she thinks is okay and what she knows is not. She never thought he was anything other than a charlatan and she can’t erase the pain of the bitter ‘don’t’ thrown her way by Jester when Beau dared to even enter her space.

But rejection, like anything else, gets easier with time and frequency. Beau’s well aware of her place in the pecking order. She’s comfort, quick and easy. She’s not real though, she can’t help or heal and who would want her to? Certainly not Jester, who falls into Veth’s arms, who lets Fjord rub her back in awkward circles and pats as she sobs, let’s Caduceus cast calm emotions as she sinks bonelessly into Veth.

Beau quietly disappears to the captain’s quarter with her bottle of whiskey.

She leaves everything else inside of her on the shore.

***

Caleb could easily draw a teleportation circle back to the Xhorhaus or any of the circles they’ve acquired access to but there’s quiet consensus that they all need a little more time on the sea. They haven’t been attacked by servants of U’katoa since they hid the cloven crystal inside of Caleb’s vault of amber though they’re all still wary of Fjord’s status as the betrayer.

Beau continues to distance herself under the guise of perfecting her skills on the sea if they’re going to be doing this for a while. She sticks by Orly and fucking Marius during the day. Orly, who seems to see right through her but mercifully says nothing, gives her tasks and leaves her to herself. Marius won’t shut up and keeps adopting this weird ‘sailor’ accent but there’s comfort in that too.

There’s no shortage of things to learn on a ship and the illusion of learning keeps her away from having to deal with anything.

It helps that nobody else wants to deal with anything verbally, it’s sort of their thing. She sees Caduceus shooting her contemplative looks from time to time but she continues trimming the sails and ignores.

Jester doesn’t leave her room.

Beau tries to ignore that too.

***

They’re three days outside of Nicodranis when Beau gets caught. She went a little too hard on the whisky after allowing herself to stew in her own self-loathing ad nauseam. Quite literally. She spent more time throwing up over the side of the ship at five in the morning than paying attention to her surroundings.

“I didn’t know you got sea sick,” A soft but forceful voice surprises Beau from behind.

Beau wipes her lips with the back of her arm and turns around slowly. She already knows she’ll see the towering form of Yasha looming over her. “Yasha, yeah, um,” She rubs the back of her neck nervously and feels herself deflating as she realizes with one look at Yasha’s face that gig is up. “Fuck.”

Yasha doesn’t regard her with judgement though Beau wouldn’t blame her if she did. Then again, knowing all the pain Yasha has caused and felt in her life she wouldn’t expect anything less than open compassion. “Come on, I know somewhere you’ll feel better.”

There’s a time when Beau would have turned that offer into a sexual innuendo but she doesn’t have the will to do that anymore. Maybe that’s what Yasha sees as she holds out her hand. Beau doesn’t hesitate to accept like she would if there was anyone but a few disinterested greenhorns watching.

Yasha leads them all the way down to the lowest deck of the ship, around the corner from a couple of barrels to an area that’s clearly lived in. There’s a bedroll and a few notebooks cast off to the side. Yasha motions for Beau to sit on the bed roll and joins her when Beau does so wordlessly.

They sit like that for a while. Yasha doesn’t expect anything and Beau has nothing to give. The crash of the waves seems more urgent all the way down here but more comforting that way too. She feels closer to the ground than she thought possible on the sea.

“This is where I come,” Yasha breaks the silence as the ship rocks from side to side. Beau pushes down a wave of nausea. “When I want to be alone,” Yasha laughs to herself. “Which is most of the time.”

Beau nods but doesn’t speak.

“I don’t sleep very well, as you can imagine. Too many demons, literally.” Yasha gives her a knowing look but despite being thoroughly caught Beau stubbornly digs her heels into her own silence. The corners of her lips pull involuntarily at Yasha’s humor that she’s developed in her pain. Beau wishes she could have developed something useful in her pain but she’s built to destroy everything in her sights.

Yasha allows the silence to take over as she watches Beau fight this war against herself. Beau appreciates it more than she’ll ever have the capacity to say.

Finally she breaks. “How long have you known?”

Yasha’s gaze is softer than Beau deserves. “Since the first time. I was pretending to be asleep too.”

Beau releases a laugh against her will that shortly turns in a manic series of giggles but it’s too funny. What would this group of people look like if they all weren’t trying to pretend they weren’t fucked up beyond belief? Yasha laughs with her instead of backing away from her like she probably should. Maybe this is what it would look like.

Once they stop laughing like maniacs, Yasha grows quiet and looks at Beau with those eyes that are softer than she deserves. “I shouldn’t have waited so long to follow you, I think.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

“Don’t.”

“Why not?”

Beau sighs and looks away. Yasha can be so stubborn in that esoteric, I might be a fallen angel but definitely a fucking trauma survivor way she has. If there was ever an opening to fucking speak, it’s now. “I was supposed to protect him but he died right in front of me. I’m supposed to be an expositor but I can’t even point out corruption with my own friends without being the bad guy. It took two weeks for anyone to notice that I wasn’t sleeping in the dome, that I wasn’t protected.”

Yasha earnestly sits and listens until that last part. She reaches over and clasps her hands on Beau’s rapidly waving arms. “I noticed.”

Beau stops and takes a deep breath.

Yasha deflates. “I know I’m not the one you wanted to notice.”

“Yasha, it’s not-”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not that,” Beau asserts.

Yasha leaves all of her emotions on her face, something Beau envies. The ability to be vulnerable. “It kept me from following you. Probably, I don’t know.” She pauses. “I should have. We all should have. I know what you’re feeling.”

Beau scoffs but doesn’t deny it.

Yasha’s molars grind against each other as her jaw clenches and she looks far away for a moment before she returns to Beau. “I was in that cage, I saw everything. I couldn’t.” She stops and chokes back her emotion. “Mollymauk was my family and Zuala was my family and I couldn’t save either of them.” She looks so angry for a moment that Beau is reminded of her rage on the battlefield. “That is Fjord to you. That’s Jester.”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“I know but maybe that’s when we should talk the most.” Yasha releases her grip on Beau’s wrists like she’s positive now that Beau won’t dart off. Beau wouldn’t be so sure about that, everything crawling underneath skin is screaming at her to run and never come back. “She didn’t mean to hurt you, you know. She was scared and hurt and-”

“And I was right when I should have been wrong.” Beau scoffs. “That’s my curse.”

“Maybe,” Yasha looks at her thoughtfully. “One of them, anyway. Beau, it’s not your fault.”

“Which part are you talking about?” Beau feels the bitterness creep up into the back of her throat. Or maybe that’s just bile.

“Any of it, all of it. You take on so much and you don’t let anyone give you anything.” Yasha shakes her head. “It’s okay to not be okay. I’m not okay.” Yasha looks away. “Sometime I don’t know if I’m trying to be. Sometimes I feel guilty like if I’m okay then they don’t matter to me so much. What if I lose the pain and I lose them too?”

Yasha looks genuinely unsure of the answer to any of her questions and now it’s Beau who puts a hand on Yasha’s arm. Grounding her in a way she doesn’t even know she’s qualified for. “I’m sorry, I must seem like such an asshole to you. You’ve lost so much.”

“No.” Yasha says firmly, looking at Beau. “That’s not why I said that.” She looks at Beau like she’s trying to find the right way.

“Yasha? Are you down here?” A heavily accented, sleep slurred voice calls down the stairs. Beau and Yasha tense up equally. Beau mouths ‘say something’ to Yasha when she stays frozen with inaction.

“Yes?” Footsteps descend the stairs as the swish of Jester’s tail swipes against the walls of the narrow staircase.

“Oh,” Jester says softly as she comes around the corner to see Beau and Yasha sitting hip to hip on a bedroll, Beau’s hand gently grasping Yasha’s arm. “Oh.” Jester’s face goes through about five emotions until she settles on I’m fine.

“Jester.” Beau stands up. “I was just about to leave.”

“No you weren’t.” Yasha tugs at Beau’s arm and Beau obediently sits down again. Jester looks like she goes through another ten emotions.

“I should go.” Jester lands on and turns to leave. Yasha uses her long arms to grab Jester’s hand and gently pull her back.

“You’re going to sit down too.” Yasha says firmly.

Jester complies without argument. There’s something about Yasha with a purpose that inspires compliance.

Silence falls over the three of them. Yasha breaks it. “I don’t have any tea or crafts. I think this is usually easier with something to do.”

Jester smiles a little like she can’t help but be charmed by Yasha’s quiet determination mixed with utter confusion on how to make this work now that it’s not just the two of them. The smile fades when she looks between the two of them and notices how close Beau is to Yasha.

“So,” Jester forces a big smile onto her face. Beau can always tell when it’s fake, Jester could never fake it with her. “When did this happen?”

“Jes, this is going to sound super cliche, but it’s not what you think.”

Hurt flashes across Yasha’s eyes so briefly that if Beau didn’t already know it was coming she would have missed it. “No, I was just making Beau talk.”

“Was it working?” Jester asks.

Yasha looks at Beau and shrugs her shoulders.

“Yes.” Beau surprises herself by answering but it’s true. It’s not everything, they can’t possibly address everything in just a few minutes but she already feels more seen than she has in a long time.

“Okay,” Jester says slowly and then looks towards Yasha. “Okay.” She says more resolutely. “Could I join in the talking?”

Yasha laughs and pulls Jester closer. “I think I would like that.”

And just like that Jester lets everything spill in one long and very detailed run on paragraph. Beau looks at Yasha and back to Jester, both impressed and scared that one person can fit so much pain into one breath. Once she’s done speaking she visibly intakes air and then deflates in the next breath.

“Beau,” Jester looks at her so earnestly that Beau starts to feel too seen. “I should have never pushed you away. You were looking out for me and I wanted you to be wrong because if you were wrong then I wasn’t a stupid little girl.” Jester lets the tears fall openly on her face, more brave than Beau could ever be. “But I am, I’m a stupid little girl.”

“He was never worthy of you,” Yasha asserts before Beau can process. “Jester, you are so much more than him. Take it from me,” Yasha’s face twists into a sneer that would leave even their most fearsome enemies shaking in their boots. “Obann, used me as a trophy - his champion. But he was weak too. Weak men always fall to their knees.”

Just as quickly as the rage crosses over Yasha’s face it’s gone again as she gently clasps Jester’s hands. “I know it’s not the same, I know you loved him while I only hated Obann but the weakness is the same.”

“What she said,” Beau chimes in because it sounds a lot better to her than trying to compare what her father did to her to the scale of the manipulation felt by Jester and Yasha.

“Beau, you know too. Your father,” Yasha pauses. She squeezes and releases her right fist. “I would still kill him if you let me.”

Absently Beau rubs her hand over the scar Yasha left on her stomach and feels immediate guilt when Yasha’s eyes trace the pattern of Beau’s hand. “That wasn’t you.” Beau rushes to say.

“I wasn’t responsible but it was me.” Yasha’s eyes stay fixed on Beau’s stomach. “I can never atone for that.”

“But I don’t blame you and you know that, I’ve told you that.”

Yasha turns back at Jester. Even though she has her demons she’s not willing to part from.

“Do you blame yourself?” Yasha directs the question at Jester.

Jester only has eyes for Beau. “Only for how I treated the people who tried to warn me.”

Beau cups Jester’s hands between her own. Yasha looks away, pretending to be interested in the wall. “I forgive you.”

“You always do, even when you shouldn’t.” Jester shakes her head. “I don’t deserve it.”

Beau lets a wry smile take over her face. “People who don’t deserve things get them anyway, all the time. Usually assholes.” Beau squeezes Jester’s hands and lets her smile turn genuine. “You couldn’t be bad if you tried. And I won’t take it back, I forgive you whether you think you deserve it or not.”

“How do you do that?” Jester asks softly. “How do you keep giving so much of yourself to everyone except for you?”

Beau feels too exposed and not for the first time resists the urge to run away. “I can’t answer that.”

“I knew you were sneaking off but I never followed,” Jester looks down at their hands. “You would have followed me. You always have.”

Beau feels the weight of Yasha trying to pretend she didn’t accidentally become party to a conversation that feels more intimate for its locale and gently pulls her hands away from Jester. Jester looks at her with understanding that belies deeper knowledge of why Beau always follows, why Jester was immediately devastated when she thought Beau moved on to Yasha.

Even though they’re saying things they haven’t before, this doesn’t feel like the right time to address that.

“Let’s make this normal then,” Yasha finally cuts back in now that the tension has been relieved for now. “Maybe now we know we need things we can be the ones who make sure we get them.”

It goes against every instinct Beau has but in the last however long she’s been down at the bottom of this ship she’s felt lighter than she has in, maybe months. Even as it goes again every instinct to repress, repress, repress she finds herself opening her mouth to say yes.

Jester agrees and Yasha nods, resolute in her win.

“Ok.” Yasha uses her Magician’s Judge to push herself up off of the ground, sheaths her sword, and reaches out one hand each to help Jester and Beau off of the ground. “We look out for each other and we don’t carry it all ourselves. And no more sneaking out, I can’t lose you.” She glares at Beau. It makes Beau feel something funny like being cared for. Yasha’s stomach growls and Beau becomes uniquely aware that if she doesn’t eat something she might start throwing up again.

“Let’s go wake up, Caduceus!” Jester grabs Beau’s hand and waves for Yasha to follow them up.

It’s not everything Beau needs, it only scratches the surface but it’s more than she thought she ever deserved. And maybe if they keep their promises to each other it can be more than any of them ever expected.


End file.
